A Hard Day's Work
by rejuvenation
Summary: COMPLETE - Fred goes to Hermione's apartment, asking her to help out at WWW for the day. Hermione begrudgingly agrees, eventually spending many of her evenings and weekends working at the shop and helping the twins invent new products. After spending so much time together, Fred and Hermione begin to see each other in a new light.
1. Hello, Fred

Hermione sat at her kitchen table, slowly sipping her coffee as she steeled herself for the day. She didn't have work today (the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was, for the most part, closed on Sundays), but she had a feeling that today would just not be a good day. She had felt oddly as soon as she got out of bed, and the unsettling sensation had persisted throughout her shower and preparation of breakfast.

Finishing her coffee, she stood up, took her mug to the sink, and thoroughly washed it before setting it on the drying rack. Maybe today she would head to Sainsbury's – Hermione still preferred buying her groceries the Muggle way.

She headed towards the door, grabbing a shopping bag and her coat. But, as she was putting her shoes on, she heard a knock. Hermione froze for a second. She wasn't expecting any visitors today – as far as she knew, Harry and most of the Weasleys were at Mrs. Weasley's Sunday lunch at the Burrow. And, after the war, Hermione had been much more cautious about whom she let into her flat.

Unfortunately, Hermione had been planning to leave the house that day, and, short of escaping through the window and climbing down the gutter pipe, there was nothing she could do but open the door. So, she got to her feet, grabbed the doorknob, took a breath, and cracked the door open slightly, thinking to herself that she really had to install a peephole.

To her surprise, a Weasley twin clad in a dark green t-shirt and gray plaid pajama pants was grinning at her from the hallway. Noticing the presence of both ears, Hermione pulled the door the rest of the way open and said, "Hello, Fred."

"Hermione! My lovely, darling, beautiful -"

She cut him off with a sigh. "Fred, what can I do for you? Why aren't you at the Burrow?"

"Why aren't _you_ at the Burrow, Hermione? You're as much a part of the family as any of us," Fred countered.

"You got me there, Fred," Hermione returned, internally chiding herself for having skipped Sunday lunch a noticeable amount of times. Redirecting the conversation, Hermione added, "what can I do for you?"

Fred stepped forwards, effectively inviting himself in to Hermione's flat. "As you know, dear Hermione, George and I run a joke shop. Now, this shop stocks an assortment of products which are designed to bring humor and happiness to wizarding homes and communities across the nation."

Hermione leaned against her kitchen table. "Fred, I know you run a joke shop. I've been there how many times? I've helped you how many times?"

"Hermione, I know you know. And I'm very grateful for your assistance. That's why, today, I am asking for your help again."

"Fred, I was just going out. I need to get groceries. Is it quick, at least?"

"Well, it depends on your definition of quick," Fred replied with a hopeful smile. "Our mum sent us a lovely letter last week detailing the many reasons we should come to Sunday lunch. Noting the lengthy list of consequences if we did not, George and I decided that it would be for the better if we attended once in a while. We came up with a system: we would switch off working on Sundays so that one of us could be at the Burrow all day, while the other would take his lunch hour and attend only the comestible portion of the event."

Hermione butted in, dramatically sitting down. "Fred, seriously, get to the point."

"Loveliest, most wonderful Hermione, we need you to help me staff the store today."

"Fred, seriously?" Hermione groaned.

"Well, it's George's turn for a day off, and Mum will have our hides if we both skip lunch today. Verity was supposed to help, but she called in sick with dragon pox. We can go to the Burrow together during lunch, since we're open 10-12 and then 1-6."

"Fred, seriously?" Hermione repeated.

"Is that all you know how to say, Hermione?" Fred grinned at her. "I'll pay you, really. You know how much George and I appreciate your help."

"Why couldn't you have asked one of your siblings? You rope them into stuff all the time!" Hermione said resentfully.

"Well," Fred begun, counting on his fingers, "one, you've helped us so much with the shop already so you know where everything is, two, you're quick and adaptable, and three, you're already trained. Imagine trying to teach little Ronniekins how to ring people up!"

Hermione sighed, exasperatedly letting her head fall to the table. "Fine, I'll help you with your little shop thing."

At the first sign of Fred's excitement, Hermione clarified, "Today. Just for today. I did not agree to any more than today!"

As Hermione was still slumped on the table, Fred grabbed her shoulders and shook her, possibly a little too roughly. "Hermione! You are the absolute best! Are you ready? I am so ready! Let's go!"

Hermione, annoyed by the excited shaking, sat up and gestured to the antique clock on her wall, indicating that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes wasn't set to open for another hour.

Fred nodded at her. "You're right, we have time before we open. But guess what? George and I need your help on one of our products! So we can work on that for a little while before we begin our business day."

"Fred, you're full of wonderful surprises," Hermione said sarcastically. "But yes, I can help you. I suppose I'll already be there."

"Oh, how excellent!" Fred said loudly. "I have to let George know!" Whipping out his wand, Fred conjured a silvery-white fox and dictated, "Forge, wonderful news! Our dearest friend Miss Hermione Jean Granger has enthusiastically agreed to help me in the shop today!"

At this, Hermione let out an emphatic, pointed groan.

Glancing quickly over at Hermione, Fred continued, "Well, maybe not so enthusiastically. The point is, I will be free to wrangle customers while Hermione works the till, or vice-versa. Excellent to have two shop workers on a busy Sunday like today, right Hermione?"

Hermione snorted.

"As you can hear, dear brother, she agrees. Anyway, a Patronus can only deliver so much, so I must leave you." Fred waved his wand, stating clearly, "George Weasley, The Burrow." The fox took a running start and disappeared into the air, presumably heading towards George.

Turning to Hermione, Fred inquired whether she was ready to go.

Hermione stood up. "I think the question is actually whether you yourself are ready to go," she said, assessing his fashionable fresh-out-of-bed look.

"Oh, these old things?" Fred responded. "Thank you for your compliment! I rather think they've held up quite well throughout many changing trends in fashion. For example, this t-shirt is a classic piece, while the plaid in the trousers calls back to Scottish tartan designs. I chose this outfit with intentionality and an eye for mixing basics and statement pieces."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Fred chuckled and continued, "I can change when we get there. It's not like I live too far from the shop. Plus, we both get some snazzy magenta robes to wear over the top!"

"I am already so over-the-top excited to help you today. Please stop informing me of more tantalizing details," Hermione stated.

"Oh, Hermione, ever the jokester! You'll learn to love working at the shop. And me!" Fred announced confidently.

"Don't get too carried away," Hermione finally smiled, standing up and hooking her arm through Fred's.

Noticing their locked arms, Fred Apparated them both away to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, ready to start a hard day's work.

**A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think. I will update as soon as I've written the next chapter!**

**~rejuvenation **


	2. Brilliant, Hermione!

Hermione felt the familiar pull at her navel and whooshing sensation as she and Fred Apparated into the back room of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Landing on her feet (despite a stumble into Fred), she cleared her throat and looked around, never having seen the WWW back room before.

Fred and George had clearly cast multiple expansion charms, as there was no way that a room this large could actually fit on the WWW lot. Towering stacks of shelving units stretched at least a hundred feet into the distance, and multiple large piles of disorganized objects suggested past explosions.

"A lot of this stuff is useless," remarked Fred.

Hermione jumped, interrupted in her observation.

He continued, "it's old products that we never could make safe enough to sell, or prototypes of things we never developed, backstock of discontinued products, things like that." Pointing to a door the left, Fred explained, "our actual stockroom, with products we're currently selling, is over there. It's much smaller. George and I could never produce enough of our products to fill a room this large!"

"I never realized you had so many products you never sold," Hermione told him.

"Thought we sold everything, good or not, regardless of safety?" asked Fred wryly.

"Something like that," Hermione laughed quietly. "I guess all that testing on first-years did have a purpose, didn't it!"

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you? Even though they were paid? Even though George and I had already tested the products countless times on ourselves (and Ron, and Malfoy)?"

"Never," smiled Hermione.

Changing the subject, Fred took her arm and pulled her to the right. "Our invention room is over here! We still have a few minutes before we have to open the shop, and George and I really need your help on something."

Fred opened an unassuming oak door in the wall of the large storage room, shooing Hermione into a much smaller space with a few cauldrons and a wall stocked with myriad potion ingredients.

"Now, Hermione, George and I are Ginny's brothers."

"News to me," Hermione said, not paying much attention to Fred since she was busy inspecting the potion books (titles ranged from _100 Useful Tinctures for the Home_ to _Avenge Yourself! How to Forever Strike Down Your Enemies with Potions_).

"Well, spending so much time with Ginny, we've noticed that the times we're most annoyed with her are the times in which she won't shut up. You must've noticed this too; sometimes she just talks and talks and talks, no regard for how others may be feeling about the progression of the conversation."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, presumably to counter Fred's assertion that Ginny was too talkative, but Fred continued before she could say anything. "George and I decided that it would be quite embarrassing for someone should they also act like Ginny. That's where our new product comes in – they're called Sociable Stickers. Basically, presuming you are sneaky enough, you can attach this sticker to someone, and they will be overly loud for the rest of the day. They'll dominate every conversation, interrupt everyone, and generally make a poor impression on everyone they meet. The problem is, right now it just causes the sticker recipient to repeat themselves over and over. Equally annoying, but not the intended effect."

Having finished his sales pitch, Fred looked toward Hermione. "So, what do you say? Can you help us?"

"Fred," Hermione paused, not sure how to continue.

"Yes?" Fred responded, waiting to hear Hermione's agreement to assistance.

"I'm not sure how to say this, but honestly… I think it's a bit mean," Hermione finally said.

"Mean? Why?" asked Fred. "It's just a prank."

"Yes, but…" Hermione attempted to find words to explain her sentiments. "Look, most of your other products are harmless toys. Decoy Detonators, Weasley's Wildfire Whizbangs, these are things that yes, could be used in a prank, but that's not their sole purpose. Their purpose is fun and amusement. Your products that are pure pranks, like Canary Creams, are funny and don't cause lasting harm to the victim. When someone turns into a canary, it's completely obvious that it's a prank. But when someone won't shut up, or when someone embarrasses themselves talking too much, most people's immediate assumption is that's just how that person is. This product could prevent someone from getting a job, from getting a date, from making friends, and to be honest, I think it's cruel to embarrass someone so much with a personality trait that's not even their own."

Fred stared into a corner of the room for a moment, processing what Hermione had just said. Finally, he agreed. "You're right, as always, Hermione. It's also not funny to anyone except the person who actually instigated the prank." Fred stood facing the corner, clearly unwilling to make eye contact with her.

Noticing Fred's disappointment, Hermione remarked, "there's an easy fix to make this product really useful, though."

Fred perked up at this statement.

Hermione added, "There's a lot of people who have a hard time speaking to large groups of people or who get really nervous before important events. What if this sticker was something you could put on yourself to give yourself a bit more confidence? It doesn't make everything happen to your advantage like Felix Felicis would, mind, but to wake yourself up somewhat and encourage you to speak more."

"Hermione! That's perfect!" Fred said excitedly. "Not exactly a prank, but George and I certainly do quite a few products of practical use. The same problem stands, though – we can't get it to stop making it us repeat ourselves."

Hermione thought for a moment. "Let me see your notes."

Fred handed Hermione a thick, leather-bound notebook. Sheaves of paper had been stuck into it at odd angles, and the binding was beginning to fall apart. Brightly-colored remnants of past potions decorated each page. "Here, it should be near the end," he told her, flipping to the correct page.

Hermione read through the recipe and notes for a moment, smirking at the places where one of the twins had written that something had exploded (so that was why Fred currently only had half his left eyebrow, she thought). Coming to a realization, Hermione asked, "Have you tried adding armadillo bile? It's used in the Wit-Sharpening Potion, so it may make the user more coherent and therefore less likely to repeat themselves. You could also try some lavender and moonstone, since those have calming effects."

"Brilliant, Hermione!" Fred exclaimed. "I knew you could come up with something amazing!"

Glancing at her watch, Hermione noted that it was time to go out front and open the shop. "Shouldn't we make sure all the products are stocked before customers arrive?"

"Hermione, ever the timekeeper! You're very right. Sundays are usually quite busy!" Fred ushered Hermione out the door of the workroom, grabbing two robes off the wall as he went. They walked back through the large storage room, ending up back in the main shop.

Fred handed Hermione one of the robes. It was long, magenta, and had gold stripes and billowy sleeves that covered the wearer's hands.

"Oh, my god, Fred," Hermione groaned, "What in Merlin's name is this?"

"It's our robes!" Fred said cheerfully. "Gotta make sure that we look different than the customers, you know."

"Oh, I think they'll be able to tell you apart just fine," Hermione replied sardonically, reluctantly donning the outfit.

"Yes, the Weasley twin good looks and all," Fred bowed. "Anyway, must open the shop! It's ten," he remarked, gesturing to the flock of small children outside, noses pressed against the windows, fogging up the glass.

Fred moved towards the door but turned back to her. "Quick! Do you want to run the till or help customers?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'll be at the till, I guess. You know more about the products than I do, and if anything runs out, you know where more is." She walked towards the left side of the door, where a tall counter stood with an antique-looking register on top of it. Hermione knew that the register was really just for intimidation and amusement; Fred and George didn't see the need for a real machine and instead chose to keep their Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts in sacks below the counter, charmed so that only the twins or authorized cashiers could lift them.

Fred grinned, "Perfect! I'll be over here, using my charms and wiles to convince customers into purchases." Walking swiftly to the door, Fred looked back at Hermione, winked, and turned the deadbolt.

Immediately, a swarm of children flooded the store. From ten until twelve, Hermione was inundated with purchases and questions ("Where are the Love Potions?" "My Pygmy Puff threw up, do you think he's sick?" "Do you do custom Whizbangs?" and, Hermione's favorite, "Can you get Fred's autograph for me? Or George, I don't really know the difference"). Multiple times, Hermione ran out of smaller coins like Sickles or Knuts and had to beg Fred to go get more from Gringotts. Each time, Fred was proud to present from under his robes another similarly-sized sack of whatever coin had run out, noting that he had to be prepared for any eventuality.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was full of yells, laughter, soot, and suspicious smells by the time Fred finally flipped the "Enter At Your Own Risk" sign to "Closed for Lunch (and Other Nefarious Deeds)."

Hermione flopped forwards onto the counter, exhausted. "How do you and George do this every day? That was insane, and we're only a quarter of the way through."

"Well," Fred told her, "Sunday is our busiest day, and usually there's three of us here, so you've experienced the worst of it already! Be proud of yourself!" He walked over to her and patted her on the back. "Ready for Sunday lunch with Mum?"

"Ohh, I forgot about that," said Hermione lowly, taking off her magenta robe and leaving her t-shirt and jeans. "Think I look presentable?"

"Hmm," Fred said, making a big show of wiping soot off her face and smoothing her hair, "you look like a veritable princess!"

Hermione laughed. "Hardly. Let's go or your mum will have your hide for being late!"

A look of fear appeared in Fred's eyes. "You're right. Quick, take my arm!"

As soon as Hermione's arm went through Fred's crooked elbow, he Apparated them both to the Burrow.

**AN: Hope you enjoyed that! Let me know what you thought and if you have any other ideas for pairings/fics. Next time, Fred and Hermione have Sunday lunch at the Burrow and finish the day back at WWW. **


	3. Nothing's Going On

Fred and Hermione landed in a heap in the grass about one hundred meters from the Burrow. Opening her eyes, and realizing that, although Fred had landed on top of her, he had not moved, Hermione groaned, "Fred, please get off."

Fred did not make any moves to stand. "Don't you like having a tall, handsome man lying on top of you? Imagine what could happen next."

"Nothing could happen next, Fred, we're at Sunday lunch at your mum's. To which we're going to be late if you don't move."

"Fine, love," said Fred, standing and laughing, "but you'll regret this later. Someday, you'll wish you had let me stay. You'll remember how nice this was..."

Hermione got to her feet and brushed the grass off of her front. "In your dreams, Fred," she said sarcastically. She began walking towards the Burrow, Fred following in her wake.

It was a hot June day, stuffy though somehow not very humid. The sunlight was almost violently strong, causing beads of sweat to appear on their foreheads.

And Hermione was confused. She had always had a friendly sort of fondness for Fred; he was actually quite kind when he wasn't playing pranks, and he was much smarter than he let on. But he had never before come close to suggesting that he felt anything for Hermione. Today was the first time he had done something that could have been properly described as "flirting," and Hermione was unsure whether it was out of friendship, his joking manner, or something more.

The two arrived at the back door of the Burrow, and Hermione wrenched it open, ready to get out of the hot sun. Unfortunately, Ginny was waiting for her on the other side.

"Hello Hermione, Fred," she said, an evil glint in her eye.

Both Hermione and Fred recognized this look, Hermione from when Ginny would still Hermione for gossip and Fred from when Ginny had come up with an idea for revenge for one of Fred and George's pranks.

"What happened outside?" continued Ginny.

Hermione and Fred shared a look. "Nothing, Ginny, we Side-Along-Apparated here, and we landed on top of each other because apparently Fred isn't very good at sticking a landing," Hermione explained, eyeing Fred.

"That's what Scourgify is for!" said Fred cheerfully.

"And why, then, did you stay in that position?" pressed Ginny.

"Fred wouldn't let me up," Hermione exasperatedly answered.

"Oh, yes, he's like that with girls sometimes," said Ginny knowingly.

"It's not like that," said Hermione. "We're friends. And you still haven't let us inside."

"Fine, said Ginny, backing away from the door to let Fred and Hermione into the kitchen. "You still haven't explained why you arrived here together."

Stepping in in order to save Hermione from his sister, Fred said shortly "Hermione was helping me at the shop. Now cool it, Ginny, you're making us both uncomfortable. You know there was no funny business happening."

Ginny shut up, not used to Fred standing up to her. Usually he put up with her teasing. Perhaps it was because it involved Hermione this time?

No matter, though, because Mrs. Weasley had entered the kitchen and had laid eyes upon Fred and Hermione.

"Hermione, dear!" Mrs Weasley rushed towards her and enveloped her in a hug.

"Nice to see you too Mrs. Weasley," Hermione responded. She had gotten used to Mrs. Weasley's greetings over the years.

"Oh, and Fred!" Mrs. Weasley turned to Fred and hugged him also, though perhaps not as enthusiastically as she had greeted Hermione. "Have you been corrupting this young woman also?"

"Of course, Mum," joked Fred, though he was a little upset by the difference of her greetings to Hermione and to him. "We are going to go say hi to everyone else."

"Oh of course Fred! Lunch will be in a few minutes, dears."

Hermione and Fred began to make their way into the living room. On their way, Hermione, noticing Fred's disappointment, remarked, "I haven't been to Sunday lunch in a while. She was probably just excited to see me. I'm sure it has nothing to do with you."

"I hope not. I think she's not real excited about the joke shop, though. She wishes Georgie and I had real jobs," Fred sighed.

"I think that's to be expected somewhat. Every parent has some idea about what they want their kid to be, and then they are inevitable upset when their child doesn't choose that career," Hermione told him.

"I just wish she saw how successful we were," said Fred wistfully.

"I do," said Hermione. "You both have a good business sense, your magic is brilliant, you're so good at what you do. I'm sure your shop will grow on her too."

"Thank you, Hermione," said Fred seriously, a little surprised that she felt that way. "Maybe it will take more than six years for her to realize," he said, smiling sadly.

"Maybe it will! Maybe you'll do some extraordinary magic that actually helps her and isn't some sort of prank on her while she tries to make supper."

"Now that would be something!" Fred said laughingly.

Happy that she'd helped Fred feel a little better, or at least that it seemed that way, Hermione entered the living room.

As usual at Mrs Weasley's meals, the whole family (except Charlie, who was in Romania) was present. Ginny had made it to the sofa before Hermione and Fred had and proceeded to smile broadly at them, attempting that the presence of others would encourage the two to spill more beans.

"Why Fred! Hermione! I didn't know you two would grace us with your presence!"

Hermione, tired of Ginny's prying into her and Fred's relationship, snapped, "come on, Ginny, you saw us in the kitchen, and we're not even that late. Lunch hasn't even started yet."

Ginny, unhappy she had been called out, flopped backwards into her seat, and Hermione, satisfied, sat on the floor in front of the fire.

Bill, from the armchair next to her, told her, "don't mind Ginny. She just likes to set everybody up," he chuckled.

Hermione knew that; she had spent many a summer with Ginny, who had turned out to be a quick-witted, fiery, yet caring and kind young woman. But the gossip and scheming to set people up seemed a little different when it was inflicted on her rather than anyone else.

Ron, from Hermione's other side, asked, "so why did you and Fred show up together?"

After their kiss at the Battle of Hogwarts, they'd gone on a few dates, but they'd ultimately decided (at Hermione's prompting, granted) that they were better off as friends. Hermione, though, had a sneaking suspicion that Ron might not share her feelings. He was constantly concerned about whom she spent time with, especially any male friends.

"I was helping Fred at his shop, Ron, seriously," said Hermione wearily.

"Ah, cool, okay," said Ron, seemingly satisfied.

From Ron's other side, Harry noted, "let Hermione have a life, Ron, she's allowed to spend time with whomever she wants." Then, to diffuse the tension, he started a conversation about the Chudley Cannons.

On the opposite side of the room, Fred had squeezed himself into the armchair that George was already sat in, so that the twins were basically on top of each other.

They sat in silence for a moment, until George asked, "did you and Hermione work on those Sociable Stickers?"

"Yes!" Fred said excitedly. "Hermione pointed out that they were a bit mean, so we changed it to be more of a confidence-boost type sticker rather than an embarrassing prank. She had noticed that most of our pranks were harmless and easy to fix the results of, whereas this isn't. And I agree— I don't want people to use our products to hurt people, I just want people to laugh and have fun."

"You let Hermione change our product?" inquired George suspiciously.

"Yes, I mean, I thought she was right, and she gave us a few ideas of ingredients to try to fix the product..."

"It's okay, Gred. I agree with her too; it's a funny idea but in practice it could really be harmful. I was just surprised you listened to her. You don't usually listen to anybody!"

"Yeah. But she's been helping us so much!"

"Oh I know. Relax, I'm sure nothing's going on."

Fred nodded in agreement, though to be honest he wasn't so sure of that himself.

Lunch was served, and it was time for Fred and Hermione to open the shop back up for the afternoon. They walked away from the Burrow to the apparition point, and Hermione grabbed Fred's arm to apparate them back to 93 Diagon Alley.

They arrived in the shop only to see a vast flock of shoppers outside the door, seemingly counting down the seconds until one.

"Everything set? I suppose we can't keep them waiting much longer," said Hermione, re-donning her magenta robe and gesturing toward the crowd.

"Ready, I guess," replied Fred, and he opened the door.

The afternoon passed much as the morning had. Hermione was completely mobbed by customers at the register, eventually creating a blocked off area for a line to form that was a little more organized than the crowd that had come before it.

Finally, the clock struck six. Fred had evidently been paying close attention to the time, since as soon as the second hand reached the twelve, Fred shouted "right, everyone, we're closing up, please go to the checkout, thanks for your business!" He then went to the door to stop any more hopeful customers from entering.

By 6:10, the store was clear of patrons, and Fred and Hermione were slowly walking around, clearing up messes and tidying shelves.

"Thanks so much for your help, Hermione," Fred told her, pulling out the shop's money bag from his robes in order to pay her.

"Oh Fred, it's all right," replied Hermione, looking up at him. "I owed you something, I mean you've helped us so much and honestly I never thought I would say this but I do enjoy some of your pranks, if they're not too mean of course."

"Why Hermione!"F red said, mockingly extremely grateful (though, sincerely, he was a bit proud of himself for winning Hermione's approval). "I'm so flattered!"

Hermione smiled gently.

Fred, feeling as if he needed to do something, gave her a quick hug. "Let me know if you need anything, Hermione, seriously, I owe you big time!"

Fred felt Hermione's body stiffen as he hugged her, but she relaxed in a moment. He felt strange in that position, somehow like he was meant to be there. Or something. Who knows! he thought, as he quickly released her.

Hermione, confused by the strange feeling in her stomach and wanting to quickly exit the situation, said "See you around, Fred, maybe at the Burrow next week?"

"Yeah, maybe!" Fred agreed.

Upon his response, Hermione apparated away, leaving Fred alone with his thoughts in a dark, empty store.

**A/N: hope you all enjoyed that! Please review and tell me what you thought. Next week, Hermione runs into a certain someone in Diagon Alley. **


	4. If You're Sure

Hermione rearranged some papers on her desk, sighing. Though her office technically met her needs – it was nicely appointed with a desk, a comfortable chair, and a lamp – it was quite small and really wasn't suited to the number of books and files that Hermione tended to accumulate. She had just finished researching a case for the Aurors and now was suitably tired and hungry, perfect because it had just turned noon.

She grabbed her bag and walked out of her office, ready to grab a quick lunch at her favorite soup and salad place. She had never eaten much food, and that hadn't changed after she graduated Hogwarts. The only difference was that now she was also encouraged to eat small meals because she couldn't afford any extravagances.

The hot August air blasted into Hermione as she exited her office building. She groaned, not excited at all for the short walk to the café. Little did she know that a familiar figure was approaching from behind.

"Fancy seeing you here," smirked a deep voice from behind.

Hermione didn't have to look to know who it was. "We both work in Diagon Alley, don't we, Fred?"

"Yes we do. Very astute of you, Hermione, no wonder they call you the brightest witch of your age," joked Fred, catching up to her.

Hermione warily continued walking, unsure if Fred was planning some sort of prank.

A few moments later, Fred piped up, "and where are we going, Granger?"

"To lunch, Fred, I'm hungry. I guess you're invited," she said, assuming that he would follow her anyway no matter what she said.

"I'm glad to be such a welcomed guest!" Fred exclaimed as they entered the restaurant.

After they'd ordered and paid at the counter and sat down (Hermione wanted tomato soup and a Mediterranean salad, and Fred, since he hadn't eaten there before, got the same), Fred remarked, "I thought I was going to see you at Mum's last Sunday."

Hermione turned slightly pink—she'd been expecting this question since she saw Fred, but she really hadn't wanted to answer it. In truth, after her encounter with Fred the Sunday before that, she had been very confused and hadn't wanted to see him for a while. She hastily responded, "I had just had a long week at work. I needed some peace and quiet…you know how it is," she finished.

"Yeah," said Fred, appearing slightly confused.

They were silent for a moment, both sipping their drinks to try to fill the quiet. Thankfully, their food arrived, and they began eating.

Making conversation, Hermione noted, "It looks like Fortescue's is back up and running!"

"Yeah," Fred responded, "he'd been closed for a long time, but it looks like he's gotten the place in shape again." Fortescue's ice cream parlor had lain quiet for a few years after the war (the theory was that the parlor's namesake had been taking time for himself), but had opened back up after the rest of Diagon Alley had led the way.

"Diagon Alley seems even more vibrant than it was before the war," Hermione continued. "It always was too crowded for me, but I definitely appreciate the energy now. It was so depressing for a few years."

"You just like that Scrivenshaft's opened a branch here and that it's so near your work," Fred teased.

Hermione smiled. "Maybe I do!" More seriously, she said, "I don't know if I've ever told you, but I was always really impressed by your and George's work opening up your shop. You were so fast – you had it together only a week after the battle, and you really helped people feel better after all of those tragedies." Hermione didn't quite know why she had said that, but she felt that it was true.

"Thank you, Hermione, we figured people could use something better to do than mope around all the time," Fred grinned. He hadn't expected to hear Hermione compliment his work, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He'd always respected her intelligence, even when he was making fun of her, so to be complimented by her he felt was an honor.

Finishing her food, Hermione told him, "I'd better get back to work. My lunch break ends soon."

"Ah yes," Fred said, wiping his mouth with his napkin, "your very important governmental work! Meanwhile, I will get back to making joke products for pre-teens."

Hermione laughed. "Your work makes people happy, mine goes relatively unnoticed. Don't put yourself down."

They walked out of the restaurant. "Actually," Fred said, "speaking of the joke products for pre-teens, George and I could use a hand," he said slowly, gauging her reaction.

"Yes?" Hermione prompted.

Fred hadn't thought she would be so receptive. "I need you to help again on Sunday, if you can. Verity got dragon pox."

"Okay…wasn't I filling in for Verity last time too?" Hermione asked curiously, thinking that it seemed like a lot of time off for one employee.

"Yes, you were, but she was on vacation, and she'd told us about it in advance, and we felt that her getting dragon pox wasn't her fault. It means that we have to find someone to fill in for her, but she can't control her sickness…" Fred rambled.

"That's nice of you. My boss gets annoyed whenever I get sick. Sometimes he threatens to take it out of my vacation time!" Hermione complained. At this point, they'd arrived at Hermione's work.

"Hermione, that's illegal, seriously. Report him or something." Fred told her seriously. "He can't do that to you."

"Oh Fred, it's okay, if he tries anything I will do something," answered Hermione, surprised by both Fred's desire to make sure she was okay and his compassion towards his employee. "I have to go back to work now, seriously, so I guess I'll see you Sunday?" Hermione began walking towards her building.

"Yeah, Sunday. See you then!" Fred walked away, slightly disappointed Hermione hadn't hugged him or something. He was unclear why he felt that way, but he did all the same.

Hermione walked back into her office, passing her receptionist on the way.

"Oh Hermione!" the receptionist, Liz, sang. Liz had light brown hair and blue eyes, and she was the office gossip. She knew everyone's news and sometimes prowled around the area to see if she could overhear private conversations.

"Yes, Liz?" said Hermione wearily, knowing what was coming.

"Who were you on your lunch date with?" asked Liz excitedly.

"That's my best friend's brother, and it wasn't a date!" said Hermione, heatedly. She was sick of Liz asking her if every male she saw Hermione with was her date. In the past, this had included Harry, Ron, Percy, Neville, and even Arthur, though it was very clear how much older Arthur was than she.

"Okay, Hermione, if you're sure," continued Liz confidently.

Hermione fumed off to her office, faintly hearing Liz say, "though someday, that may change."

She sat down behind her desk, mulling over the day's events. Though she had told Liz firmly that Fred wasn't her date, she felt a little disappointed that that was true. Somewhere inside her, she wished that maybe he was.

Hermione scoffed at herself and her girlish silliness before pulling a paper towards her and continuing where she'd left off before lunch.


	5. Amortentia

The bell on the door dinged as Hermione entered Weasley's Wizard Wheezes that Sunday, ready to begin her day of helping the twins (again). She had been rushed that morning; Crookshanks had vomited up some unidentifiable object, and by the time she was done cleaning that up, she'd only had a few minutes to do her hair and get changed. Because of that, she was relieved that she'd finally arrived.

"Hermione!" she heard from the corner. She turned around, saw a tall figure with red hair, and, before she knew it, Fred had hugged her.

This was strange, she thought. She hadn't believed they were that close (but a feeling in her stomach told her she didn't much mind if they were). Hermione gingerly hugged him back, trying to find a boundary between showing him she didn't mind the hug and communicating to him that she felt something.

Fortunately, he released her quickly.

"Seriously, thank you so much for helping us again! We've really got to get better with scheduling," Fred told her sincerely.

"Well," said Hermione, smoothing her hair after her rush to arrive on time, "organization was never your and George's strong suit."

"Hey now, I'll have you know we received many OWL's. How would we have done that if we weren't organized and hadn't sorted out how much time we were going to spend studying?"

"You received a few OWLs. Between you," Hermione said pointedly. "You're very smart, but I don't think anyone would say that you applied yourself at all in school."

Thankfully, someone saved Hermione from the embarrassment of just having complimented the Weasley twins: George emerged from the back room.

"Excellent!" he shouted. "Our favorite temp!"

"I'm flattered, George," Hermione said wryly.

"You should be," he said. "Now, do you remember where everything is? Need any help?"

"Yes, George, are you forgetting how often you are in need of my services?"

"Of course, Hermione, it's been, what, eleventy thousand Sundays so far? I was just checking in, making sure, you know," George seemed nervous that he had actually offended Hermione in some way (she did have a history of being somewhat touchy about seemingly unharmful commentary).

"It's fine, you know I was kidding," Hermione laughed. "You're fine, don't worry, I appreciate your looking out for me."

Fred stepped in, eager to save face for his brother and change the subject. "Hermione? Kid?" he said, feeling her forehead. "Are you sick? Are you actually Hermione?" he asked, exaggeratedly inspecting her.

Hermione's face went hot at Fred's touch. "Of course, Fred," she looked at her watch hoping that they could get going soon. "It's nine now, shouldn't we open up?" she said, gesturing at the throng of children outside, faces pressed against the door and hot breath fogging up the windows.

"George! Customers await!" announced Fred.

"Oh! Sickles, Knuts, even Galleons galore!" crowed George.

Together, they ran over, theatrically unlocking the door and letting everyone in.

For the next few hours, as on the Sunday two weeks before, Hermione was busy restocking shelves and answering customers' questions (she knew where the Pygmy Puffs were, but if you wanted to know if there were any more Nosebleed Nougats, you'd have to ask Fred or George).

She had just gotten into the swing of things when there was a large crash the next aisle over.

A strange sense of fear washed over her; what if Fred was hurt? Or George, she supposed that'd be equally bad.

Hermione ran to the source of the noise, finding a large pool of Amortentia on the floor. Whoever did this was no longer in sight, presumably having run away as soon as they'd realized they'd made a mistake.

A few seconds later, Fred and George arrived.

"What have we here?" asked Fred.

"Presumably Amortentia," said Hermione, "based on the smell. And the fact that the cracked bottle is just there," she noted, pointing to the spot on the floor where a pile of glass shards lay.

"And what does Amortentia smell like to you," provoked George, clearly knowing how personal of a question that was.

"That's for me to know and you to never find out," rebutted Hermione.

"C'mon, George, nobody's going to ever answer that question," said Fred.

"Oh, I know," laughed George. "But I'll never know if I never ask, right?"

"Sure, George. Anyway, we've got to clean this up. Can't leave the register unattended too long!" remarked Fred.

"Oh, I'll go work the register. You two deal with this mess!" George darted off, excited for the opportunity to not have to do undesirable manual labor.

"Alright," said Fred, clasping his hands together. "This is our special Summer variety of Amortentia, and for some reason, normal cleanup methods don't work on it."

"What have you tried?" asked Hermione.

"Well, Scourgify does nothing, since there's so much liquid, and for some reason neither does Tergeo. Of course, our next step was to ask Mum, but she doesn't know either."

"Interesting," murmured Hermione, thinking. A moment passed, and then she said, "Okay!" and quickly exited the shop, leaving a very confused Fred.

Hermione returned a moment later with a few loose cobblestones from outside.

"Those are rocks, Hermione, those don't clean," Fred remarked sarcastically.

"I know that, Fred, don't you think I have a plan?"

"Of course, Hermione," agreed Fred. He wasn't about to get into a fight with her. He'd never win, and plus, he wanted her to like him.

Hermione bent down, whispered "Reducto," and all the stones turned to sand. She then moved the sand over to the puddle of potion and mixed it around. The impressive amount of Amortentia had been changed into a pile of wet sand. Hermione then summoned a container from the back of the shop (there were plenty of random bottles and jars back there; Fred and George had long given up on an organizational method) and moved the sand into it.

"Presto," said Hermione, brushing off her hands.

"Hermione, come on!" said Fred. "We've been trying for ages to find some way of cleaning that up without replacing the floorboards, and you only need a minute to think and you have one!"

"Muggle method," said Hermione (a little bit proud of herself), "works every time."

"I have to tell George! This is excellent!" and Fred was off.

The rest of the afternoon went fairly smoothly. The flow of customers began to peter out at about five, presumably for supper, and they closed the shop at six.

"Impressive work today, Hermione," Fred told her as he was cleaning the top of the sales desk.

"Thank you, Fred," said Hermione, surprised to receive an actual compliment from him. Even after he'd been so nice to her for the last few weeks, she still didn't expect him to treat her like a real friend.

"Yeah Hermione," added George, walking in from the back, "we are seriously so grateful for your help! We might have to hire someone just to replace Verity if she ever can't make it. We can't keep relying on you like this."

"It's okay," said Hermione, "I enjoy it, sometimes."

"Glad to hear it," said Fred, "but we can't ask you to do this every weekend."

"No, probably not," agreed Hermione. "Hey, why wasn't one of you at your mum's today?"

"Oh, they're in Romania," explained George. "Visiting Charlie."

"Of course, of course," said Hermione, making her way towards the back room to collect her bag before leaving.

Upon reaching the back, she discovered that the sign on the door had been changed. Where previously it had only said "Weasleys Only!" a parenthesis had been added, making the sign now say "Weasleys Only! (and Granger)." For some reason, this made Hermione happier than any of the actual, verbal compliments the twins had sent her way that day. She supposed she was proud to be included, though she didn't necessarily know why.

Collecting her bag, Hermione walked back to the shop to leave.

"Thanks for your business!" George said, as she opened the door.

"Come again soon!" added Fred.

Rolling her eyes at the twins' antics, Hermione wearily headed for home.

**A/N: Sorry for the large gap in updates! I've just moved, so I've been stressed and life has been hectic. But I've settled into a new routine, and hopefully I'll be able to keep you all regularly up to date! :)**


	6. Tell Me More

Hermione glanced at the clock and sighed. 5 pm, the supposed end of her work day, had come and gone, and she was still sorting through paperwork at 5:45. The rest of her coworkers had left, their offices sitting empty and dark as they presumably were at home, laughing with their families and cooking dinner. Hermione didn't have a family to laugh with. And she had such mastery of home spells that making dinner only took about ten minutes for her.

But she supposed that, as usual, she had gone above and beyond the call of duty. She creakily stood (she'd been sitting in the same position for at least three hours, probably more), grabbed her bag and sweater, and exited her office.

As she opened the door onto the hustle and bustle of the business portion of Diagon Alley, Hermione remembered: she'd had an errand to run after work today. That prospect cheered her up tremendously, and she quickly walked along the street towards her destination.

She knew she'd arrived as soon as she saw the twenty-foot-tall replica of one of her best friend's brothers. Ah, the sights! the sounds! (of her second, unpaid job). Oh, the sense of family! (not really, they'd never dare to prank her like they did Ron and Ginny, even their mum). Yes, the cheeriness and life present in this place of business! (actually, not right now, as they'd closed at 5:30). But Hermione was happy to be there nonetheless. Somewhere, through the shifts helping the twins and all the times they'd sat together, poring over their recipe book and working out a flaw in one of their products, this place had become somewhat of a home to Hermione. If Crookshanks were there, it might actually feel like her home.

Hermione knocked on the door, knowing that if the twins were in the back they might not here, but hoping that someone could let her in.

To Hermione's luck, George had been tallying the register when he heard her knock. He wondered who it might be, since no stranger would ever knock on a business's door after closing time, but he went to look anyway. Seeing Hermione, he opened the door.

"Hello George!" smiled Hermione.

"Hi Hermione," he was still confused, "it's good to see you."

"You too, George," she returned.

"What can I do for you? We've closed the register, so unfortunately you can't buy a whole case of our ten-second pimple vanisher like you usually do."

"Very funny, George, but I came here of my own volition to help you." Hermione took the door from George (who'd still been holding it open) and let herself into the shop.

"Really." said George, suspiciously.

"Really. I have a product idea for you."

George brightened at this. He was fairly easy to please.

"Muggles use this product called ballpoint pens to write," Hermione started.

"Yeah, Dad talks them up all the time," interjected George. "Says they're convenient because you don't have to dip them in ink all the time."

"Exactly! So, when I was a first-year, I thought they'd be great to take to Hogwarts. I brought some with me, but to my surprise, they didn't work."

"No!" said George, because clearly Hermione wanted some type of response, but he didn't particularly understand where she was going with all this.

"It's probably because they're Muggle. A lot of Muggle things don't work around magic. So I thought you could develop some that did work. Muggleborn kids would love them, and witches and wizards would use them too. They're smaller than quills, and the ink doesn't make a mess, and they're cheaper, too."

"You're right, Hermione, there's probably a market for those."

George considered the idea for a moment.

"That's actually great! We do have a few products that are actually useful, and not garbage like we usually make, and these sound really handy! Do you want to come in the back? We could start working."

"Yes!" said Hermione, smiling. She really did love working with the twins like this. When they weren't victimizing innocent people, they were actually really nice.

"C'mon, then," said George, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to the back. (He always did lose a little bit of inhibition when faced with a potential product).

Opening the door to their workshop, George announced, "Look who the kneazle drug in!"

Fred, who had been sitting at a workbench with his back to the door, turned around. "Hermione!" Standing up, he asked, "how have you been?"

"I'm the same, Fred, you saw me yesterday," she grinned. But instead of responding, Fred pulled her into a hug. Hermione had somewhat expected this, but George was here, and it was awkward, and what would he think, and what should she think, and what was actually going on here… so she pulled away quickly.

George still stood next to the door, the hug not having escaped his attention. "Hermione had an idea for us, Fred."

"Really?" Fred said excitedly. "Tell me more!"

Hermione explained her idea of a ballpoint pen that would work in the wizarding world, adding, "Another consideration is the surface we write on. Muggles use paper, which is very smooth, but parchment is rougher and textured, so we'd have to figure out a pen tip that could stand up to that. Quill ink should work, but it might not be thick enough to stay in the pen tube."

"We've got it," said the twins, in unison. George continued, "Our Quick-Dry ink should work, since it dries so fast, and it's fairly thick. So that problem is solved."

"The pen shape is still an issue," said Hermione. "I did bring a Muggle pen for reference," she dug around in her handbag and produced a classic, cheap Bic option.

The brainstorming and development process had taken off. Fred and George sat at a workbench, continually transfiguring the pen, adding ink, testing it, changing it… Hermione sat on a stool next to them, watching them work and occasionally offering suggestions.

Hermione yawned, and, realizing she'd completely lost track of time, looked at her watch and noticed it was already 9:30.

"Guys, I have to go," she said sadly. "I have to get up for work tomorrow."

Snapping out of their reverie, the twins turned towards her.

Fred stood. "Completely understandable, Hermione, gotta get your beauty sleep," he teased.

"Yes, exactly," Hermione rolled her eyes.

George followed as Fred and Hermione walked out of the back room. "We've got to compensate you for this, Hermione, seriously it's an amazing idea. We could give you a cut of the profits from it."

Reaching the front door, Hermione turned to George. "I don't need anything, George, I love working on products with you, honestly."

Fred responded, "we can't give you anything for this?"

Hermione thought for a second. "Actually, one thing."

The twins shared a glance. "Yes?"

"Let me know when you've finished the product. I'd love to help you design the packaging."

Fred laughed. "Of course, Hermione, we'll do that. You do have an eye for design. Though you're somewhat more subtle than we are."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Hermione said.

"Possibly!" George smiled. "Thank you for coming by!"

Hermione opened the door. "I had a great time, guys, thank you. I'll see you on Sunday, maybe?"

"Yeah, of course!" said Fred. "Can't miss Mum's dinners for anything."

"No, you can't," said Hermione, "that's how I knew you'd be there."

Hermione walked into Diagon Alley, letting the door shut softly behind her.

Knowing what was coming, Fred quickly turned around and speedily walked towards the stairs to their flat.

"No you don't, Fred." George had caught him.

"What now, George, I'm tired," said Fred, putting on an air of annoyance to drive George away.

"You were fine before Hermione left." George stated.

"Well, now it's two minutes later and those two minutes have really tired me out," rejoindered Fred.

"Sure. Why'd you hug her?" George cut straight to the chase.

"We're friends, you know, we've spent a lot of time together while she helps us here. Friends hug."

"You and Hermione never did."

"Well, maybe our friendship has grown when she helps me while you're gallivanting around on the Quidditch field at the Burrow."

"Sure, Fred." George could sense this conversation was going nowhere. "Go have your little nap if you're so tired."

Fred jumped at the chance to be done with this dialogue. "I will!" He ran up the stairs.

George had caught him and Hermione. Well, not caught, since they weren't doing anything they shouldn't have been doing. But kind of caught, because they were good friends. But there wasn't anything wrong with that, he thought defensively.

He didn't know what they were anymore.


	7. Flying Lesson

As Hermione neared the Burrow after walking from the apparition point, she pushed her hair out of her face and smoothed any flyaways on the top of her head. She hadn't made it to the Burrow for Sunday dinner for a few weeks, what with helping the twins and a general nervousness of maybe seeing Fred there. But that morning, Hermione had made herself get ready and go, saying to herself that Mrs. Weasley was basically a second mum, and she wanted to see Ginny and Harry, and maybe she did a little bit want to see Fred after all.

She opened the back door of the Burrow and, as per usual, was immediately accosted by several members of the Weasley family. Hermione wasn't a huge hugger, but she always put up with this.

Having disengaged herself from the crowd of redheads, Hermione wandered into the living room, hoping to claim one of the extremely large, squishy armchairs before everyone else got to them.

Unfortunately (or not, depending on what she was pretending to feel), someone else was there first.

"Hermione!" Fred said excitedly.

"Hi Fred," returned Hermione, sitting on the couch next to him. She thought it would probably look stranger if she didn't return his friendliness than if she did.

"Development is going so well on your ballpoint pens," Fred informed her.

"Seriously?" Hermione had expected it to take longer.

"Yeah! We've figured out an ink formulation that doesn't leak from the pen but also dries quickly. We're just working on the final shape of the pen now. They might be inspired by Muggle ballpoint pens, but we don't want them to look like them," Fred explained. "We also need a name."

"I'll think about it," said Hermione, "I'm not really sure what to call them. I've also got to think of a packaging design."

"We are getting to that stage in the design, yeah. We should be ready to put the finishing touches and packaging on in the next week or two. Then we can start selling them."

"I'm excited!" said Hermione. "I'm going to be your first customer. I really miss not having to dip my writing instrument in ink every two seconds and make a big mess," she laughed.

"I think most of us feel the same," returned Fred.

They fell into an easy silence, broken when Mrs. Weasley shouted, "Dinner is on the table, everyone!"

They both quickly jumped up and went into the kitchen to grab a plate.

In her usual fashion, Mrs. Weasley had cooked way too much food and a great variety of it. There were multiple types of potatoes (roasted, mashed, and fried), chicken and beef pies, and large piles of vegetables.

The meal was a raucous affair; Hermione had ended up seated between Fred and George (who had closed the shop for lunch so he could eat at the Burrow) and patiently endured their back-and-forth of wisecracks and jokes at Ron's expense (to be honest, his hair was especially limp that day).

After they'd eaten, after George had left and after Hermione had insisted on helping Mrs. Weasley gather the dishes ("thank you, dear, but you really didn't have to"), Hermione drifted over to the windows, watching Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Bill play a pickup game of Quidditch.

"Want to play?"

Hermione jumped and turned around. "Why do you do that, Fred? Every time!"

"Amusement," he chuckled. "And I was amused."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So, are you going to stand here watching them all afternoon?"

"You've never seen me play Quidditch, Fred, you know I can't ride a broom to save my life."

"Well, maybe someday you will have to ride a broom to save your life. What are you going to do then?"

"Hopefully those days are over."

Fred sobered up slightly. "Yeah, I hope so."

After being silent a moment, he added, "but you should still learn."

Hermione considered this. Brooms weren't an uncommon form of transportation in the Wizarding world, and it wouldn't be a bad idea to learn how to ride one. However, this meant being close to Fred. But was that such a bad thing? Yes, it was. But also, it maybe wasn't.

Hermione relented. "Fine. You have an hour."

"Excellent!" said Fred. He hadn't expected her to actually agree. "Let's go get my broom!"

Hermione followed Fred to a creepy-looking small outbuilding. The outside was covered in moss and spiderwebs, so she stayed back as Fred reached in, groping around for a moment until he found his Cleansweep.

"Alright, let's go over here," Fred gestured to an empty field on the opposite side of the Burrow from where Ginny and the boys were playing Quidditch.

Hermione followed nervously. Now she wasn't sure why she'd agreed to do this. She hated heights, and she was alone with Fred. There really was no plus side to this activity.

"Now stand next to the broom, put your hand over it, and say 'up!'" Fred instructed.

"Up!" Hermione quietly said, her hand hovering next to the broom.

"You have to put your hand actually over the broom, Hermione, and you have to say 'up' in a normal tone of voice, not a mouse-like whisper," Fred said sarcastically.

"Up!" Hermione tried again, louder. The broom shook slightly on the ground but didn't rise into her palm.

"Up!" she repeated, forcefully. This time the broom shot up into her grasp.

"Exactly like that!" Fred congratulated her. "Now, sit on the broom," Hermione did, "and envision yourself going up."

This was the actual flying part. This was the part she didn't like. But she wanted to impress Fred. He was her best friend's brother, after all, and she couldn't have his family thinking poorly of her, right? Wasn't that what was happening here? Of course it was.

Hermione closed her eyes and thought of herself rising into the air. She felt a jerk from below her, and suddenly she was a few feet off the ground.

"You're doing well, Hermione, keep going," encouraged Fred.

She rose a bit more to find she was now about six feet up. Finally, she was taller than Fred, she thought, after all those years he'd spent teasing her about how small she was.

"All right, Hermione! Now try to move forward. You just have to think about it. To turn the broom, you nudge it to one side or the other with your hands."

Following Fred's instructions, Hermione inched forward. She actually felt alright in the air. Maybe it was because she was older now than when she first tried to fly. Or, maybe it was because Fred was here now, a little voice told her. That was ridiculous.

The flying lesson continued as such until both noticed the sun beginning to descend into the horizon. Hermione at this point was able to confidently do circles at least ten feet up, but upon realizing what time it was, she descended to the ground.

"Thank you for teaching me, Fred," she told him honestly. "That is probably good for me to know how to do."

"Of course, Hermione, first time you've learnt anything at all from me," Fred responded as they returned his broom to the shed.

"That's not true," Hermione said, but she didn't elaborate further.

They reached the Burrow, and Hermione said her goodbyes before walking towards the Apparition point, ready to have a quiet Sunday night before going to work the next morning.

"Hermione, wait," a female voice said from behind her.

Hermione knew what was coming. She shouldn't have been so obvious with Fred today. Obvious about what?

"What was going on with you and Fred today?" Ginny was never one to be blunt.

"Nothing, Ginny," Hermione deflected.

"That's ridiculous. You spent the whole afternoon together. I don't believe that for one minute," Ginny stared Hermione straight in the eyes.

"He was teaching me to fly," Hermione confessed. Maybe if she told Ginny this, she wouldn't ask her any harder questions.

"He was? You've never let anyone do that."

"I decided it was time," said Hermione succinctly.

"Hm," responded Ginny. There was clearly something to this situation that Hermione wasn't sharing. "Well, goodnight, Hermione," she said, knowing she wasn't going to get any more out of Hermione.

"Goodnight!" Hermione responded, and walked away.


	8. Nothing You Can Do

Fred fell backwards onto the soft couch in the Burrow's living room. He'd just finished helping Hermione (who'd just left) learn to fly a broom, and the mental effort of teaching her (and the odd feelings he'd had about it) had left him exhausted. He let out a loud sigh as he sank back further into the patched cushioning.

Unfortunately, his rest was only momentary, as the door burst open followed by a red-faced Ron.

"Hello, Ronald," Fred said innocently. "Weren't you just enjoying playing Quidditch? What has rustled your knickers?"

"You!" Ron spat.

"Me?" asked Fred. He wasn't sure what he had done to anger Ron, but, although he did not enjoy being the target of anger for something he didn't do on purpose, he was going to have some fun finding out.

"Yes!" Ron huffed. "You were with Hermione all day!"

"She's been helping us in the shop. She's actually quite nice if you can see past the hair," joked Fred.

"I know that," said Ron slowly, dragging out each syllable. "That's why I'm talking to you. You know I like her!"

"My spending time with her doesn't mean that you don't like her. I know you like her," responded Fred, slightly worried.

"Then why were you with her all day?"

"We're friends, Ron, that's obvious," said Fred.

"You can't do that to your own brother! You're ruining my chances of ever having anything with her," Ron turned away.

"Ron, you asked her out, and she turned you down. And anyway, you could've talked to her at any point today." Fred knew how hard it was to be rejected (too many girls at Hogwarts had been driven away by Fred's prank-infused methods of asking them on a date).

"That's not the point!" said Ron loudly.

"You don't own her," said Fred, standing, "she can do what she wants!"

Fred, angered by this frustrating conversation, left the room, apparating back to his flat above the Burrow.

That night, he mulled over the feelings he'd had earlier. Why did he enjoy being with Hermione so much? Why was Ron able to anger him so much more than usual?

Fred made himself a cup of tea and went to bed early. This was too difficult to think about.

But, after tossing and turning for much of the night (going to bed early hadn't meant he'd gotten any more sleep), he sighed and got up. He might as well go have a glass of water and think this through.

Fred rose, throwing the sheets and blankets off of him, and walked quietly into the kitchen. He grabbed a tall glass from the cabinet and filled it with sink water.

Just as he turned off the tap, he heard a key in the door.

George stumbled in, blearily hanging his coat up and taking off his shoes.

"I thought you were already home," remarked Fred.

"Aah!" shouted George, falling back against the door.

"Where were you?" Fred continued.

Recovering, George answered, "With Katie."

"Katie, huh?" asked Fred curiously.

"Yes, Katie, Fred," answered George. "I guess we're seeing each other now."

"Really?" Fred responded. "Interesting," he said, thinking about all the tricks he could pull on George now.

"Don't do anything," said George, "I see that look in your eyes. I like her, I want this to work out."

Rolling his eyes, Fred said "fine." He set his glass on the counter to wash in the morning.

George began changing into his pajamas in the other room. "Now that I've been embarrassed on this matter, what do you have to tell me?"

Fred actually could use advice, humiliating as it may be. "There is a girl I like, I've been spending a lot of time with her recently, but I don't know if she feels the same," he confessed.

"Ooh," said George, emerging from his bedroom clad in plaid pajama pants and a plain gray t shirt. "It's Hermione, isn't it," he concluded, eyeing Fred. "She's the only girl you've been around recently."

"Fine," Fred admitted, "it's her. But she's so hard to crack, I don't know what she thinks of me."

"She clearly likes you, Fred," George reassured. "You know she doesn't spend time with anyone she doesn't think well of."

"But there's no way to know if she thinks of me as a friend or as…more."

"Gotta ask, Fred," George said. "I had to ask Katie. It was terribly humiliating, but it turned out well."

"I guess so," sighed Fred.

"Bring her our pens tomorrow," suggested George. "and some lunch or a coffee or something," he added. "Her reaction should tell you whether you should bother asking."

"You're right," said Fred. "I just… hate not knowing, and I don't want to be wrong."

"Nothing you can do, Freddie," said George, making for his room, "nothing you can do."

He shut the door, leaving Fred in the kitchen with his thoughts.


	9. Finally

Hermione bent further into her desk drawer, rummaging around for her green quill. She knew it was in there, but Higgins had borrowed it yesterday and he'd given it back this morning while she was meeting with someone who she really needed to like her, and so she just shoved it in the drawer in order to minimize the disruption created by Higgins' entrance, and anyway she just should've taken the three seconds it would've added to put it in the same place it always was.

Ah-hah! she thought, grabbing the quill. It had been under a cat toy that she'd been saving for Crookshanks' birthday (if she'd kept it at home, he would've found it immediately).

Emerging from her desk, she noticed that she wasn't the only one in her office.

"Fred!" Hermione greeted him. "What are you doing here?" She stood up, and before she knew it, she had hugged him. She hadn't had a very good day at work so far (there was the whole quill debacle, and her boss had been extra ornery, and the coworker in the office next door had been loudly chewing gum all morning), so she was glad to see a friend.

Hermione pulled away, blushing. "Sorry."

"No, don't be sorry, I enjoyed it," teased Fred. "I brought you lunch," he produced a sandwich from Hermione's favorite café. "And your product," and a pen emerged from behind his back.

"It's finished?"

"Yes! We've been testing it all week. We even switched it with one of Ron's quills, and he used it without realizing there was a difference. So clearly it works well!"

Hermione grabbed the pen, quickly testing it on a scrap of parchment on her desk.

"This is amazing, Fred, it works exactly like I wanted it to!" Hermione was so pleased that her product had found success. "What am I doing? Sit down, Fred, don't just stand there awkwardly."

A few moments later, Fred reclined in the chair across from Hermione's desk. They were eating their sandwiches in happy silence, occasionally discussing Hermione's annoying coworker and the ways that they could alter her gum to stick her jaws together so she would finally stop making those terrible smacking noises.

Hermione finished, laying the wrapper down on her desk. "Thank you for lunch, Fred, I love that café."

"I know, that's why I chose it," responded Fred.

Hermione sensed that there was something he wasn't telling her. "Why did you come here, Fred, really?"

Fred knew it was time. "I…I don't want this to be weird or anything, Hermione, but we've become such good friends, and I don't want to ruin that…"

Hermione knew what was coming. She took a deep breath, knowing what her heart was really telling her.

"but do you want to go out with me? For real? Not as friends?" Fred finished, turning his eyes up towards hers.

Hermione locked eyes with him. "Yes, Fred, I would," she said smoothly. She was nervous, but she didn't want him to think that she was agreeing with him out of pity. So, she'd carefully removed any traces of fear from her voice.

Fred stood up. "See you Friday, then? Dress up," he added.

"Look forward to it," said Hermione, jokingly. She was looking forward to it, but she didn't want to seem too serious.

Fred left her office, a bounce in his step. He'd gone rather abruptly, he supposed, but he'd just had such great success that he didn't want to mess it up by doing something stupid.

Hermione settled back in her chair, a flush on her cheeks and butterflies in her stomach.

The next day, a bunch of yellow chrysanthemums arrived, a note in Fred's writing saying just "thank you."

**A/N: this is the last chapter in this story! Thank you for sticking with me through this. Please leave a review letting me know what you thought.**


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